


Persephone's Rescue

by Pixiebells



Category: The Great Gatsby (2013)
Genre: 1920s, Ambiguous Relationships, Drama, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Gay Nick Carraway, Healing, Infidelity, Letters, M/M, Memories, Money, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Oral Sex, Other, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-Canon, Psychology, Queer Themes, Redemption, Resolved Sexual Tension, Running Away, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sexuality Crisis, Spring, Starting Over, Therapy, bisexual jay gatsby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixiebells/pseuds/Pixiebells
Summary: Months after wrestling with his inner demons, Nick Carraway gets a letter from someone he never thought he'd speak to again--his cousin, Daisy. But when she tells Nick how she's been handling her life after Gatsby's tragic passing, his rigid perspective begins to change.
Relationships: Daisy Buchanan/Jay Gatsby, Nick Carraway/Jay Gatsby, Nick Carraway/Original Male Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> So while double-checking the timeline of the story, I read online that Nick apparently sees the doctor & gets help seven years after everything happened, in 1929. That seemed especially odd to me, (except maybe for the Great Depression being used as a metaphor.) So, for creative purposes I've decided it was only a few months later, around October 1922 that Nick moved back to Chicago and commits himself that winter. This takes place a year later, in the late winter/early spring of 1924.
> 
> The title is a reference to the Greek Goddess Persephone who was captured by Hades in the Underworld and later rescued. But the choices she made still rendered her to have serious consequences. I thought she'd be an interesting allusion to Daisy in the plot of this story.
> 
> This story is dedicated to Keith. Thank you for being the Nick Carraway to my Daisy 🌼✨💕

Nick Carraway was astonished. He was furious. He wanted to hurl the paper in his hands right into his fireplace.

Even though he'd written all his frustration and pain away with the help of the doctor a year before, he boiled with rage at this small paper. Every awful feeling from the disastrous end of the summer in 1922 came flooding back.

It was the name on the return address of an embellished white envelope, that drew his ire:

"Mrs. Daisy Buchanan"

He tossed it carelessly onto his coffee table and stalked into his small kitchen. He paced about the wooden floor, ignoring the pretty view his balcony provided. The lights of the Chicago skyline glinted as his rage simmered. 

His ocean-blue tea kettle almost seemed to be taunting him, taking longer on purpose just to infuriate him further. The soft, gentle February snowfall was the last straw; all delicate and calm to grate on his nerves.

Together, everything created this wholly unpleasant atmosphere. When he retrieved his favorite teacup colored to match the kettle, he had to stop himself from smashing the glazed ceramic all over the floor.

As he paced, he tried to ignore these irritants by internally listing how many things had changed since he’d seen her last. 

As he poured his tea, his effort continued: he wasn’t as naive anymore; although he was more cynical than he’d like to admit.

He started to reread his copy of A Room With A View as his tea steeped, but the abandoned missive silently nagged him, somehow making its presence louder and louder just by existing on his coffee table.

What else could he do? He couldn't destroy it without knowing what she said. As angry as he was at her, she had finally contacted him. 

Since she was willing to talk, he might as well try to listen. If he was still angry after, he could tell her so. 

Telling her how frustrated and disgusted he was with her choices would be better than just thinking it. Maybe it wouldn't consume him. He sighed, set down the book, and opened the letter.

_My Dearest Nick,_

_I miss you terribly. I've heard you moved back from West Egg. I understand. You may have become terribly depressed if you were to stay there. I can't wait anymore; I must speak to you about Jay. Well, you know him as Gatsby. In any case--_

_I know it was awful I did nothing after he had died; what a dreadful thing! It was my fault to start; I really did think driving back would calm my nerves. I remember he shielded me as it happened and it all happened so quick. I didn't know what to do and he said to go, so I just kept going, hoping I hadn't just seen what I'd seen. I told Jay over and over how I had done wrong; but he insisted on covering for me._

_I know I was horribly selfish to do nothing about his passing. No note, no flowers. But Nick, I have my reasons. I don't know if you'll agree but I'll do my best to explain._

_If I acknowledge he's really, truly gone...I too will have died. I must keep myself in a delusion—someday, he'll come to save me, and this time, I'll be brave enough to leave Tom forever. He'll come back, he'll sweep me off my feet, he'll make me brave. I'll say whatever I have to, whether I mean it or not, just to be with him again._

_If I were to face facts and let go, my body might be alive, I'll smile and pretend to be happy, but my soul and indeed my heart, will both be dead. He was my one true love, Nick. He was everything._

_That springtime, and the summer, oh, it was pure magic! Jay was an amazing man; I know you were captivated by him as well. So genuinely kind, so thoughtful, such an optimist! My heart was matched for his alone. He was the exact opposite of Tom._

_Tom doesn't care about my feelings, what I do or don't want. Jay always cared about what I wanted, what made me comfortable, what felt right. He let me decide, what I wanted, what I needed, everything. He listened and obliged my every whim. Tom will never be like that. And of course, I loved how he made me so strong. I was ready to face Tom._

_That day we went into the city, I was very nervous. Surely you remember him, encouraging me to be honest, tell Tom how I practically despised him. Yet it all became too much pressure as they raged back and forth over me, when things became so intense and muddled, but I knew he meant well. Tom didn't care. Tom likely hated him. Perhaps he knew he would never measure up to someone as wonderful and humane as Jay._

_So surely now you can see why I must keep myself hidden from this tragedy; I cannot bear the thought of being trapped with Tom forever. The one thing I now take comfort in is my sweet Pammy. I've focused on her much more now; she has become my only refuge._

_When I put her to bed, I tell her that she will always have a choice in whom she marries, that she shall never be pushed this way or that. I want her to be stronger than me, Nick. I've changed my mind. I don't want her to be a fool. I want her to be brave. I know before I said being a fool is the best a girl could do in this world, but I cannot give her such a cynical demeanor too._

_“Follow your own heart and whim” I gladly remind her, far away from Tom’s prying ears._

_“Always, mama,” she smiles. “Like you and father?”_

_While it pains me deeply, I always reply: “Yes, sweetheart, like me and father." I cannot destroy this delusion for her, as I cannot break my own._

_I want her to find love in her own way, her own time, any young man she wants. She is only four now, so that is surely a long way away, but I want her to know that truth from a young age, and that it's never too late to choose whom you love—even on your wedding day to someone else._

_I know you're unhappy with me, but I just had to tell you, and a telephone call simply wouldn't do; though hearing your strong, smart voice shall be a comfort when we return to the States. We're in France now. I do love the fashion, the elegance, and the Parsian living._

_Mostly we stay in Versailles but often visit the countryside, seeing how lovely and calm a softer side of such a magnificent place can be. I take refuge in three things: my daughter, my beautiful surroundings, and yes, my dreams of Jay one day coming back._

_Perhaps when I am indeed gone, I shall meet him in Heaven and we will be united. Let's write again soon, Nick. I have always cherished our friendship._

_I love you. Write anytime._

_All my love,_

_Daisy_

Nick sighed and thought for a few moments as the knowledge of her current life paraded through his mind. He'd always pinned so much on Daisy, always thought she had callously discarded Gatsby even though all he did was worship her. 

Yet it had never occurred to him that she had to now live her life lying to herself and pretending to be happy for a child's sake. He was satisfied he'd gotten an answer at last.

And the longer he contemplated Daisy’s life without Gatsby even being a possibility for her, the more his sympathy began to take hold against what he was so sure was his better judgement. Tom was never a particularly kind person, and that entire summer he'd never shown affection for his wife. 

All he'd done was control her, look over her shoulder and excuse his own unfaithful behavior. It culminated with him brutally chastising her for once doing something he had done dozens of times. 

Gatsby, on the other hand, would move Heaven and Earth to meet her every need. And her chance to be with him was gone forever. It sounded like a rather lonely life. What could he say? How could he help her? Yes she could be selfish, but she hadn't always been that way. 

He thought back, and realized that it was really only after Tom married her that Daisy seemed to be slowly coaxed into a different life. One with morals that slowly slipped away, like watching papers fall between a crack in the floor. The more he gave her fancy things (especially after cheating on her), the easier it was for him to teach her that enough money could make a problem--any problem or decision, no matter how serious or how much it hurt others--just disappear.

~*~

His thoughts trailed into that night, and continued, contemplating every twist and turn of a summer that went horribly wrong throughout the next day. He really analyzed everything and focused on who’s fault was what. Taking Daisy’s current life into consideration, his thoughts shifted. By that evening, he wrote back:

_Daisy,_

_Happy to hear from you. You’re correct: I was cross but I blamed you so much and maybe some of that was unfair. Yes, Gatsby was an amazing person, and it feels horrid to remember how someone that kind and optimistic was snatched from the world far too soon._

_When you didn’t do anything after his passing, your lack of action seemed to say that you didn't care, but I never imagined you’d be lying to yourself that he’ll return one day. That’s a dreadful thought, and I’m sorry you're so damaged by it._

_You’re a good person Daisy, but I think Tom has been slowly corrupting you, making you believe that you’re not responsible for your actions, and that enough money can make everything right again. I know that you know deep in your heart that isn’t true, and I know you’ve only been together for about six years, but I feel he’s made you careless. I still have faith you can change. I’m worried about him controlling you._

_But I can’t make your choices for you; I will do my best to let you decide, as Gatsby once did. I’m sorry to sound harsh; but you do seem trapped._

_And thinking about it, Tom has much more fault in what ended Gatsby: I didn’t realized this until I was thinking about it the other day, but that afternoon when we went into the city, Tom took Gatsby’s car with me to stop for fuel, and I noticed Myrtle looking down at Tom; I realize now she must’ve thought the yellow car was Tom’s. Had Tom not been sneaking around with her in the first place, she wouldn't have frantically tried to rush out to the car. But that is over and done._

_In any case, I’m glad Pammy makes you happy and France sounds lovely. Maybe a telephone call someday would be all right. Write again if you’d like to; it was good to hear from you, at last._

_I love you,_

_Nick_


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick had yet to hear back from Daisy and assumed she didn't want to talk to him anymore. He was wrong.

It was three weeks later, and Nick awoke to what he thought might’ve been a knock on his door. 

At first, it was hard to suss out; the rain was pattering heavily against the windows, so he wasn’t sure that was a knock on his door. Maybe it was the wind? But then he sat up in bed and listened again. The sound continued in a frantic, rapid clip. Yes, there was someone at his door. He looked over at his brass alarm clock and noticed it was nearly 3 A.M. Someone needed something from him, and whoever was at his door must've been desperate. He had no idea who it would be. He had a few friends here in the city but none of them would ever come around in the middle of the night like this and neither would his family.

He pushed back his thick blue comforter and shuffled to his door, half-awake in his plaid pajamas.

And didn’t expect the face he saw.

It was Daisy. 

There stood his cousin, looking like he'd never seen her before: the once-golden girl was a ravaged mess.

She stood in the pouring rain with no umbrella. Her hair matted to her thin face and her makeup was smeared by the downpour.

A large chinchilla coat was covering her petite body, around a white muslin dress. A leather satchel was slung over her left shoulder, and a small suitcase was in her right hand. 

“Nick, thank God you’re home!” she seemed to brighten upon seeing him, just for a second. 

“Can we come in, please?” her voice strained, desperate and exhausted. 

She pleaded when he looked hesitant. "We walked all the way from the train station. Can't get a taxi this time of night."

He sighed and thought for a second. “You may come in. Tom is not allowed in my home.”

She sighed in return, seeming unusually frustrated. “I don’t mean Tom; he isn't here.” she replied, shaking her head.

“What?” Nick asked, now squinting in confusion.

Daisy stepped back and Nick saw that indeed, she didn’t have her husband with her. It was her daughter, holding an umbrella far too big for her small hands.

Daisy was here...with her daughter and without Tom!

Nick couldn't let them stay outside, the child looked to be about five, and she’d been shivering, even with the umbrella and her raincoat.

“Of course. Come on in.” He opened his door for them.

“Oh, thank you! Come along, sweetheart. Let’s dry you off.” 

As Daisy shed her huge fur coat and helped dry off her daughter with a thick towel, Nick meanwhile made them tea. He looked at the women as he set the tea kettle down. The girl still looked cold, so he grabbed a spare blanket to wrap her up. Nick set out a plate of gingersnap cookies he'd bought yesterday and they all sat down for tea.

"Here, I just bought these, they're my favorite."

"Oh, thank you!" Pammy exclaimed, grinning as she took a few and eagerly began her meal.

Daisy carefully poured a small cup of tea for her daughter.

“There you are, drink up. It’ll make you nice and warm again.” she said, pushing back a wet lock hair that had fallen over her eyes. The little girl nodded and politely nibbled on her cookie.

"Now, I have a spare room, but the bed is a bit small. I think only one of you would really fit comfortably."

"She can have the bed." his cousin immediately replied.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Of course. As long as she's comfortable and happy, I'll sleep on the floor like I'm in the Orient." Daisy replied cheerfully.

Nick chuckled good-naturedly. "That's noble, but won't be necessary. My sofa here is a hide-a-bed. I assume that will be all right for you?"

“Yes, of course.” She replied, pouring her own tea and taking a cookie.

“So, how, and why--are you here? Especially now. It’s the middle of the night.”

“Well as I said, we walked from the train station. Our train from New York was over an hour late, and then we had to stop for an hour and a half for something or another. We left at 6AM. We figured we’d be here by evening. Everything kept going terribly wrong.”

“Where’s Tom? Why is it just the two of you?”

Daisy looked at him curiously. “You never were one to mince words.”

“Not at 3 in the morning. I’m no night owl.”

“Maybe we can discuss it after she goes to bed.” Daisy quietly told her cousin, eyeing her daughter to ensure she hadn’t been listening to their chatter. It was clear she didn’t want to discuss her husband in front of her daughter. Something must’ve gone wrong. She wasn’t dressed in mourning, so it wasn’t anything too drastic. What was going on?

“Sweetheart? Are you almost done? You need plenty of sleep, you’ve traveled a very long way.”

“Almost done.” the girl softly replied. She finished her tea and wiped her mouth with a linen napkin. She turned to Nick.

“May I use your powder room?” she asked with a rather cute sense of prim formality.

Daisy chuckled. “Isn’t she just a little lady? My treasure!”

Nick immediately got up. “I’d be happy to show you the way, ma’am.” and grinned down at the small child.

The girl stood from the table and faced her mother when she spoke: “Now, don’t forget, you have to wash your face before you go to bed.”

“I will.” she assured her with a nod, and happily took Nick’s arm when he offered it to her.

Daisy sat back and smiled. It was such a relief to be with family again, and to finally be safe and warm in this dreadful weather. It had felt like so long since she’d experienced what she recalled as happiness. She loved the seemingly endless beauty of those French days. But like many things in her life, it was just a pretty distraction. And she hid in this distraction to try and ignore her internal agony. She wasn't really happy in France. She just told herself over and over she should be happy.

Soon the child was off to bed and Daisy quickly changed into her blue silk nightgown.

"So, what happened?"

Daisy turned. Nick stood before her, a set of sheets and blankets in his arms. She stood back as he folded out the sofa to reveal the bed underneath and helped him with the sheets.

"I…" she softly began, busying herself with the sheets. "I couldn't take it anymore. He just…kept cheating on me, over and over again. I had enough. I stole every penny he had and bought two tickets to freedom."

"I'm sorry he never appreciated you." Nick softly added, putting the matching pillow on her bed.

The blanket was smoothed out and Daisy sat on the bed, Nick at her side.

"I caught him." she almost whispered.

"What?" 

"I caught him. In our bed. Some French girl, probably half his age. I came back from the market early, and there they were."

She put her head on Nick's shoulder and began to cry.

"Why couldn't he just be happy with me?" she quivered. "Why was I never enough?"

"You are enough." he softly replied, wiping a tear away. "Tom doesn't know how to appreciate what he has. He takes everything for granted."

"Apparently so. We just can't be a normal family anymore."

"Maybe not. But if you had to choose between a normal family that was miserable, and a different kind of family that was happy, what would you choose?"

She sighed. "I know, but what will people think?"

"People who are willing to be honest with themselves, and you, will think that you were basically trapped by someone who never treated you the way you deserve to be treated and that you had to get out. Even just for the sake of your child. People who enjoy judging others will think there's something wrong with you, but he was clearly the one with a problem."

"Thank you. I don't know what else to say."

"We've said all we need to. It's getting late. Get some sleep. Everything's better now." he whispered, and lightly kissed her forehead. She settled in, and fell asleep at last.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daisy is grateful to be staying with Nick, he's someone who truly cares for her. But feeling lonelier than ever as a woman who dared to strike out on her own, she starts to make concerning choices. How can Nick help her before things go too far?

The girls slept in considerably, but given that they went to sleep around 4 A.M., Nick didn't mind. He quietly made himself breakfast at 8 and read a book for an hour or two. He took a walk to the park around 10:30, picking up a copy of the morning news on his way back.

He came home a bit before noon to hear Pam moving about in the spare room.

"Morning, sunshine." He called over his shoulder to her.

The little girl slowly walked into the kitchen and as Nick turned around, he was met with a rather amusing sight.

Her right stocking was on successfully, but the left was in her hand. She wore a dainty silk undershirt with what appeared to be matching bloomers.

"Can you help me? This one got stuck." She explained, holding out her stocking.

Nick had never attempted such a task before, but he didn't want to wake Daisy and how hard could it be?

"Sure thing."

He followed her to the guest room. Her small suitcase was open with a silk pink dress awaiting her.

"Mama says when I get to be a bigger girl, I can wear a step-in." She proudly proclaimed.

"Did she? How...exciting." Nick replied. He knew nothing of fancy underclothes, but felt he should be encouraging. 

The stocking was soon on, along with her dress, which had a long row of buttons in the back. She demonstrated to Nick how well she could brush her own hair and put on a matching bow. 

"Well, aren't you just a vision."

Nick looked over and there stood Daisy in a long silk robe.

"Mama!" Pammy cried, leaping across the room to hug her mother.

"I brushed it all myself," she proudly regaled, smoothing her hair. "And Uncle Nick got all my buttons. I couldn't get a stocking on, but he fixed it! It got stuck when I tried."

"Well the good thing is you tried your best. And I love this color on you. Isn't this your favorite dress?"

"It is!" She replied, heading back to the dining room table for a late breakfast. Orange juice and hot cereal with strawberries.

~*~

But after a few weeks of seeming to be her cheerful self, Daisy began to lose interest in her daily life in Chicago. She didn't always eat, and some days she slept too long, some nights she couldn't seem to fall asleep easily. Nick noticed one day she'd take Dexedrine just to get out of bed. After this happened a few days in a row, he became concerned.

"Are you sure these are safe?"

"I got them at the druggist." She replied with a shrug.

"Doesn't mean they're safe."

After taking them for days in a row, she ran out. Then, she wasn’t able to sleep at night, and had barely moved from her bed or eaten in three days. Nick had to take charge. 

"Daisy, you have to get up." Nick said.

"I don't want to." She mumbled from under her covers. 

"Daisy, I’m going to have to put my foot down. Get up now, please."

She sat up and sighed. “What’s the point? I'm lonely. I'm bored. I’ve got nothing to do, no one to see, nowhere to go…I don't have any friends here except you. 1 can't face any family right now. You know they'll be furious. I barely even feel like I can go out in public. I’m raising a child without my husband!”

“You know you weren’t happy with him. And that’s my point. You can’t let all these...expectations weight you down. And actually, we do have somewhere to go. I want you to get up, have some breakfast, take a bath and be ready to go in an hour. You’re going somewhere important today."

"Important? Should I dress up?"

"It's not a requirement, but if it helps you feel better, you might as well."

She left the sofa bed at last and sat at the table in her blue silk robe. She pushed in her chair and took a napkin while Nick handed her buttered toast.

She obliged and finally ate.

"Where are we going?" She inquired, now stirring her coffee.

"I'll explain on the way."

Within a half hour, Daisy was almost ready to go. She emerged from the bath and sighed a bit. She was clean and as she stared at her face in the mirror, combed her short blonde hair as it was still wet. She put on a light green dress, trying to cheer herself up. Spring was coming, and she wanted to try and make the best of things. After her dress was on and properly adjusted, she slowly applied her makeup. She hadn't done much for herself lately and she was hoping whatever Nick had planned would be worth it. She felt so awkward to be out and about; feeling like anyone could just walk up and judge her. Most people wold probably assume she and Nick were a couple. She supposed that was better to assume than knowing the truth.

It was a short cab ride to the heart of Chicago.

"I know you've been upset lately, and I want you to work with someone to feel better. He's helped me before. He's the best in town."

"Are you sending me away?" Panic struck her usually pleasant voice.

"No." Nick shook his head. "Nothing like that. But you've had a really tough time, lots of big changes and honestly, taking whatever that nonsense is; just to get out of bed? That can't be a good thing. You need help. Don't you want to feel better?"

He paused to let it sink in as she looked out the window of the taxi, the entire city slowly parading by. 

"You said it yourself; you're lonely and bored. If I can find a way to help you, will you give it a chance? Please?"

She turned from the window to look from her cousin to her daughter.

"Yes." She agreed at last. "Yes, I suppose you may be right."

"We're here." The cab came to a stop in front of a large building. Nick paid the driver and the trio made their way up the many steps to a place he knew quite well.

"Will there be...men in white coats asking me strange questions or taking tests?" His cousin asked, smoothing out her silk gloves.

"Nothing that intense." Nick assured her.

They arrived at room 307 and Nick knocked on the door.

"Nick, lovely to see you again."

The doctor was an older man sporting white hair and a beard. He wore large spectacles and a welcoming smile.

"Daisy, this is Dr. Maurice Jones, a…well, sort of a friend of mine. Doctor, this is my cousin Daisy."

"Hello there, Miss…"

"Fay. Daisy Fay."

"Miss Fay. I'm very glad you're here. I was hoping we could talk for a little while today. Would that be all right?"

"Well…I've come all this way. It would be rude not to. Is...everyone going to be here, or…?"

"Just you and I, if you don't mind. I heard from Nick a few days ago that you're upset and I'm here to help you. But this has to be your decision."

"If you want to help me, there's no reason to turn you down."

"Well then, I imagine we should get started, if the present company doesn't need anything else, can we meet back in just over forty minutes?"

"Sure thing." Nick replied. "We’ll be at the park, it’s just down the way."

"All right." She agreed. "Well, if she gets hungry Pammy can have a snack, but not too big, I don’t want to spoil her dinner. Ice cream; she likes ice cream." She quickly handed Nick 25 cents.

“Okay.”

"Wait, here." She gave him another 25 cents.

“For you too. As a thank-you."

"That's very kind." Nick replied with a smile, and the two turned away.

"Chocolate!" Daisy exclaimed, and they turned back. 

"She likes chocolate, it’s her favorite, and--”

“Daisy?”

"Yes?"

“We'll be fine. We’ll be gone for less than an hour.” He put a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh--okay. Be good, darling.” she said, and bent down to kiss her daughter.

After the other two left, Daisy began by ambling around the room slowly to take in the atmosphere. Leather books lined his shelves in an orderly fashion. The décor was unremarkable but useful, and well-maintained. Large windows gave a rather charming view of the city far below them.

“I’ve, um, never been to a place like this before.”

“Well, Nick called me a few days ago and mentioned to me that you had come to stay with him and didn’t seem yourself. He said you seemed upset but were not to be committed, so you could be with your daughter. He said ‘I think she just needs to talk to someone.’"

"He did mention you helped him quite a bit. I’m sure you’ve heard dreadful things about me.”

“I’m coming into this with a clear mind.” Dr. Jones assured her. “I won’t judge any of my patients.”

“Do you mind if I smoke?" She asked, taking off her white gloves and retrieving a silver cigarette case from her purse.

“Not at all; please,” He replied, holding out a match for her. She lit the cigarette and sat on a nearby couch across from the doctor and he retrieved a note pad and a pen.

“I admit; I don’t know how all this works.” She confessed. “Do I have to lie here and...talk about my mother?”

“You can lie down if it makes you feel more comfortable, but you don’t have to. We don’t need to talk about your mother, unless she’s why you're so upset.”

“No. I've…I've become unhappy lately. I just came back to Chicago, and I have some family here, but I don't have any friends nearby except Nick. I mean, he is family, but we’ve always been friends more than cousins. He's very kind but…I'm lonely. I'm bored. I feel...disconnected, somehow."

"What brought you back here? I imagine it was out of necessity."

"Yes it was. Something serious happened to my family, something awful. It's never happened to me before. I didn't even know what to do."

"What was it?" The doctor asked.

Daisy paused, trying to keep her bearings when she explained.

"We--had been staying in France for a while, my husband and I with Pammy. I was out at the market one afternoon, came home and...I caught my husband.” She tearfully admitted. “Cheating on me...right," she paused and her voice dropped to a low, bitter hush. "Right...in the act, as they say. He had some French girl….in our bed!” She exclaimed, slumping back on the couch. “It was horrifying...the things they were doing…" she shook her head.

"I've never seen anyone do that! But there it was, in our home...on our bed, in the sheets I picked out...it was so deprived. I’ve never been more humiliated in my entire life!” She broke down, weeping as she rummaged through her purse for a handkerchief. 

“I told her I was his wife and she was livid. The girl ran out with half her clothes on.” She continued, wiping her eyes and sniffling. “Screaming at him the entire time. I know French; I’m not repeating what she said. But I will say I agree with her.”

"What happened next?”

“He apologized over and over and over again. I didn’t say a single word for the rest of the day to him. He bought me some jewelry, I think it was a ring or maybe a pair of earrings, as an 'apology'. I accepted them but still said nothing. I was furious."

"Now you said this never happened before. This was the first time he cheated, then?"

"Oh, no." She scoffed. "This was the first time I caught him. He's always been that way."

"Always?" The doctor said, scribbling in his notes.

"Yes. He cheated on me all the time."

"That’s very distressing. Did this begin after you’d been together for a few years, or maybe after you had your daughter?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. 

“I don't condone infidelity." He quickly explained. "I only ask because I’ve found that oftentimes, such things happen after either a relationship has gone on for some time, or after the added responsibility of a child. One may want to seek escapism, if only temporarily.”

Daisy let out a hollow, bitter laugh. “The first time he cheated on me was during our Honeymoon.”

The doctor gasped. “Good heavens, that’s grotesque! I’m terribly sorry to hear.”

“Oh, that’s not the worst of it.” She indignantly replied. “He wasn’t even in the waiting room when I had Pammy. He was out; having what I imagine was a lovely time." She paused and looked out the nearby window. "With someone who wasn’t his pregnant wife.”

She looked back abruptly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be vulgar."

"Vulgar or not, you were being honest. That's much more important here. No one else is a part of these conversations."

She nodded in reply.

"Why do you think he cheated so much, so soon?"

"We’ve never really been happy together.” 

"Ever?"

Daisy paused for a moment. "Not sincerely. I think I told myself I was happy, and acted happy. He feigned being kindly and romantic so he could use it against me later."

“What do you think made you both so unhappy?”

“I don't think we ever got the chance to realize whether or not we actually were fond for each other. Our marriage happened very quickly. Our families knew each other."

"So maybe it felt akin to an arranged marriage, instead of your decision?"

"Arranged, bordering on forced." She bitterly replied.

The doctor looked intrigued. "How so?"

"It didn't start organically. Our relationship wasn't very...warm. I think the problems started with some kind of lack of attraction. It was rare whenever we would be--um. I mean, we didn't often have…" she trailed off for a moment, gazing at her hands folded in her lap. She was visibly blushing. She picked up her cigarette from the crystal ashtray and smoked it again.

The doctor eyed her for a moment. Daisy seemed intelligent and was perfectly willing to discuss what was on her mind. While she was able to admonish the immorality of being unfaithful, it was clear she felt uncomfortable implying she'd had sex, even with her own husband. 

"You're a society girl, aren't you?"

She nodded quietly.

"Well," he leaned back and put his pen down for a moment. "I'm sure your mother taught you to never discuss these things, but I need to remind you of a few important facts: you're a grown woman. You've been married, you've had a child. You're old enough and allowed to have such...emotions. So I'd like you to take a few minutes, right now, and think of words that feel comfortable to describe your marital issues. I want to help you, so I need to know what happened."

She paused for a moment or two, deep in thought.

"We weren't...intimate very often. I guess I just wasn't enough for him."

"From what little I know about you husband, I believe you could've been Helen of Troy, and still not enough."

"Nick said he's the one with a problem, not me."

"Is that what you believe?"

"In my mind? Yes. In my heart? Somehow, I still blame myself."

"It's very common for women to blame themselves for an unfaithful husband. But if we go back to the start, in the incident you mentioned, it sounded like he humiliated you, and you were responding to his actions. This somehow ended up with you and your daughter coming back to the States?"

"Yes. I had to get out. That night, I made up my mind. I went to bed as soon as I knew he was asleep. I got up at 3 AM and began my task: I took as many pieces of jewelry and any other expensive gifts he’d ever given me. I took his checkbook, I took every last bit of money I could find. I even stole right out of his wallet. I put together whatever clothes I’d need. Things that were easy for travel. By 4, it was time to get Pammy and just leave. I bribed our housekeeper to not say a word. By 6 AM, we were in Paris. I got us breakfast, sold all the jewelry at a nearby shop, bought us two tickets back to the States, and pocketed the rest. I traveled with my little one; just us girls on our own. It was liberating! But soon our adventure turned lonely. It was five days of sea travel, and as we got closer, America seemed so big and empty. I needed to be near someone who truly knew me. I’d written to Nick recently and he…he felt like home. We’ve always been friends, you know.” 

“I’ve heard, yes.” The doctor replied.

“So, now you’re here; you’re away from your husband, who, if I may, most certainly seems abusive, or at the very least, inconsiderate and you’re living with your daughter and family you trust. That's important to feel safe. What shall you do now?”

"I don’t want to go back to Louisville.” She softly admitted. “Too many memories, too much disapproval for striking out on my own. I can’t be around them again. I'm certainly not going back to East Egg. There's nothing there for me. It looks as though I’ll be here for the foreseeable future.”

“Have you got any idea how you’ll spend your time?" He asked, jotting down notes.

“I honestly don’t know.” 

“I don’t mean to pressure you. I was just hoping to know more about your usual interests. Maybe a pastime or a hobby could be useful.”

“I don’t feel like I can be social right now.” She said with a sigh, finishing her first cigarette. “I--I can’t face people right now. It’ll have to be something I do at home.”

“Well, for example, when I was helping Nick when we first met, I advised him to write, as it’s something he was always so fond of. Something that brought him comfort. I can imagine you’re accomplished. You seem the sort; perhaps something artistic?”

“I do love beautiful things. When I surround myself with things that have such beauty, it lifts my spirits.”

“Perhaps if you’ve got the means, you could buy a few things for your current home to make you feel more at ease. What sort of things are your taste?”

“Perhaps if you’ve got the means, you could buy a few things for your current home to make you feel more at ease. What sort of things are your taste?”

“I’ve had a few beautiful statues, one was of the Goddess Athena. They named an entire city after her! She wore all silver and looked so brave, she was a Goddess of wisdom. I liked how she could be so ladylike but also...powerful, in her own way, being wise and magnanimous. And flowers; I always loved fresh flowers. I had a lovely garden back East. It was hard to find flowers that could thrive after such a dark winter."

The doctor scribbled his notes down quickly. As he did, a silence grew between them, and the doctor quickly assessed how little of her statement was about gardening and how much was about her life.

She paused, almost sounding somber. “It’s so hard to thrive in a cold environment. You don't get any nourishment. Or warmth. You just have to stay where you are and try to survive.”

"That sounds lonely." he observed as he continued his notes.

"Well, I suppose it--" she began.

"Mama!"

Daisy turned, and promptly stood. Her daughter ran up, throwing her arms around her mother's middle. But she soon noticed her red eyes. 

"Darling, what's wrong? And why are you wearing Nick's sweater?" She asked, smoothing out the light blue cardigan draped over her tiny shoulders. The sweater was so big it went halfway down her legs.

"She was doing fine, playing with the other children but then we…" Nick said softly, "we had an accident."

"Oh, is she hurt?!"

"Not…that kind of accident." Nick slowly admitted. "I gave her my sweater so people wouldn't notice."

"Oh…well, that was quick thinking. I'm grateful you did." Daisy knelt down and brushed a wispy lock of her daughter's blonde hair back. "What happened?"

"I had to go," the little child explained, "and I told Uncle Nick right away, but there wasn't a ladies room nearby. We looked all over. I'm sorry!" She buried her head into Daisy as they hugged. 

"It's all right." She soothed, clutching her.

She pulled back and wiped away another tear. "You're still learning how to be a big girl, and that takes a lot of practice. You told a grown-up right away and you tried your best. You did everything right."

"But I ruined my dress!" she sobbed.

"We can clean it." Daisy reassured her. She hugged her again, and thought for a second. 

"How about we go home, get cleaned up, and buy you a new dress? Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes!" She cried happily. "I'd love to."

“Besides,” Daisy cheerfully added, “We’ve got to go flower shopping. Would either of you like to help me pick out some flowers?”

“Of course we would.” Nick cheerfully encouraged.

Daisy turned back to Dr. Jones. "Thank you doctor. I must be going."

Can we meet again, next week?"

"Yes." she immediately agreed. "Yes of course."

"Call my number." He instructed, handing her a slip of paper. "My receptionist Dottie will be more than happy to schedule you again."

She thanked him again, and the three of them left for home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe the scene with Pammy having the issue would seem awkward, but I thought it would be interesting to see how Daisy handles things as a mother when they go wrong, not just how she handles it as an individual. I wanted to be realistic (plus I work with little kids at my day job, so this is par for the course.) More chapters coming soon!!

**Author's Note:**

> I've always liked Daisy's character, and  
> yes, I'm vividly aware most people dislike her. But I wanted to see what she's like after the fact, and explore her perspective, and a life after Tom's neglect. 
> 
> She's a fairly underdeveloped character so I really appreciated how Baz Luhrmann gave her way more depth and made her much more likeable.
> 
> If you give kudos, I'd love a comment too; I want to know what I'm doing well, especially given how infrequently she's shown in a positive light.


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